


for they each died with another's name upon their lips

by amosanguis



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Angst, Canon - Movie, Gen, POV Second Person, So much angst, Spoilers for movie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-01
Updated: 2013-02-18
Packaged: 2017-11-27 19:47:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/665768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amosanguis/pseuds/amosanguis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We were all chosen for a reason."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bunnymund

It wasn’t long after Jack got his memories back that he began to ask questions.

“We were all chosen for a reason, mate,” you tell him as you stretch beneath your Australian sun.

You can hear the question before it even passes from his lips.

“Why were you chosen?”

You hesitate only a little before you close your eyes and remember the little human girl who had found you, an arrow in your leg and on Death’s doorstep.

You told Jack about her - about how she had the kindest eyes and how she would sing little songs as she coaxed you back to life.  You told him about how her hands were always gentle and never directed a cruel word at you (( _she did have a few choice words for those who would just shoot a little bunny for no reason_ )).

You told Jack about how the years flew by, how she had tried to let you back into the wild but you had refused to leave her.  You tell him about the mornings spent looking for the eggs the chickens left around the yard, the afternoons spent lazing about in the shade, the nights spent curled in her lap as her grandmother told her favorite stories.

Then you pause for a minute - because this is always the part that breaks your heart no matter how many centuries have passed - and then you tell Jack about the lightning storm.

You’re ashamed as you tell Jack how you had fled the house ((the little girl had never had the heart to put you in a cage)) because you were still a rabbit and rabbits run from sudden noises and that was when you saw the fire.

And, before you could twitch your nose, your legs were moving of their own accord  and you were flying into the house again.  You jumped onto her bed, thumping and scratching and trying to scream her name.

She had just jerked awake when her parents stormed into her room, grabbed her and ran from the house.  

You had tried to follow.

Oh, how you had tried to follow - you just wanted to make sure that she got out safely.  After all, she had saved your life once - you had to return the favor.  You just had to.  But the smoke had gotten too thick and it was just too hot as the flames began to eat the cabin.

The last thing you had seen before the overwhelming darkness was the bright full moon peeking from behind the clouds - so you whispered a prayer,  _see her safe, please, see her safe_  - and just as you slipped under, you thought you heard her scream your name.

Jack is silent for a long time.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says.

“Like I said,” you gently pick up one your eggs, “we were all chosen for a reason.”

-z-

End chapter.


	2. North

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Passing mention of physical/sexual abuse. Nothing explicit.

Jack comes to you not long after he talks to Bunnymund.

You want to tell him that you don’t remember, that it’s been too long and you’ve forgotten.

But in the light of what he’s just remembered, you find that you can’t.

So as he sits across from you, you don’t look at him – just keep your eyes on the little toy train as you begin.

You tell him about your wife, about her long blond hair and ice blue eyes that matched the Russian skies after a heavy snow.  You tell him about the children you could never have – Sasha had been abused in all ways by her daddy, destroying her womb.  But you loved her anyway; holding her through the nightmares and never forcing anything.

You told him about the toys you made for the children of your tiny mountain village.

Then, during the time that Ivan’s armies chased the Mongols from the country, deserters from the Mongol army attacked in the dead of night. 

You told Jack how they tore through your village, burning and killing.  You told him how you had grabbed a sword, Sasha, and as many children as you could and ran up the mountains – to the caves you knew were there. 

“I didn’t seem them behind us until it was too late,” you say as you look at the paint brush.  “One of the children just started screaming, and then another, and then another.”

You had looked behind you and four riders had caught up with you and, in the time it took you to blink, they shot the legs out from under Sasha and two of the children.  You remember screaming their names and raising your sword, but the horsemen were upon you.

You were knocked down and your torso filled with arrows.

You tried to breath around the blood filling your lungs, you tried to find Sasha and the children as blackness clouded the edges of your vision – you couldn’t though and the last thing that you saw was the moon, full and bright.

_Save them, please, save my wife and the children.  If they have to go, please, make it quick – don’t let them suffer._

You told Jack how you were filled with warmth and there was this nothingness and when you woke up, a Yeti was carrying you.  That night, Moon came to you in your dreams and told you your name and your new purpose.

“We were all chosen for a reason,” Jack says under his breath and you smile at Bunnymund’s words and nod.  “But don’t you ever get angry?  For what happened to you?”

“In the early years, yes,” you say, “I was angry.  But there is something more important than my own anger – and that is the children’s happiness.  Don’t you agree?”

Jack smiles and nods, he thanks you for telling him your story and then he leaves.

You turn back to the little train, to the paint brush in your hand.  For the briefest second though, the paint turns to blood and you have to blink it away.  You run a hand over your face and take in a shuddering breath.

“We were all chosen for a reason,” you whisper to yourself, forcing forward the happy memories to chase away the screaming of children.

You remember instead Sasha laughing, the plates of cookies little Nikolai would bring whenever he broke his brother’s toys, the children dancing outside the shop – and soon you're smiling again and all of the bad has been chased away.

-z-

End chapter.


	3. Sandman

-z-

When you see young Jack Frost coming up you, you know that he’s looking for your story.  And, just as North and Bunnymund had shared their stories, you would do the same.

You mimed for Jack to close his eyes and when he did, you took a handful of your sands and began to weave them into his dreams – showing him your story.

You showed him your family – your mother, your father, your five older brothers, and your one little sister, Penny.  You showed him that you had always been a mute, using the art skills you inherited from your mother to communicate.

You show him Penny – how sweet and bright her smile was; how she would sit at your feet as you painted, staring as you worked with this look of just absolute adoration and worship.

You show Jack the dust storms.  How they started off light and short, how they continued to grow and intensify as the desert began to overtake your village.  You show him how first one and then two and then three of your brothers succumbed to the sands.

You show how the loss of her boys killed your mother, how the loss of your mother destroyed your father’s soul and how his mind was lost.

Then, then you show Jack the night that you died.

You show him how you watched a wall of the desert’s sands coming in, how the cloud had just been moving _so_ _fast_.  You still remember how you had moved everyone into the cellar and then that absolute dread when you heard Penny’s screaming – _she was supposed to be at a neighbor’s house, playing with their little girl._

You showed Jack how you rushed from the cellar, clawing out of your brothers’ grips and then rushed out into the sand – following your sister’s cries for help.  You tried not to convey the pain of the sand in your eyes, of the sand ripping away your clothes and flesh, of the sand filling your lungs and choking and tearing.

From how Jack was writhing and a few tears slipped out from his eyes, you don’t think you were doing a very good job.  So you hurriedly showed him how you finally found Penny, her little body raw and bleeding; how you carried her back the exact way you came, making it back to your cabin just as the storm began to die down.   

You had collapsed on the floor as your remaining family flew from the cellar, rushing to your sides.  But you had known, as you looked at little Penny in your hands that it was probably too late – you knew it was for you.  So when your head had lolled to the side, you had looked up through the window at the large, fat moon hanging low in the sky – barely visible through the sands.

You had prayed then, quietly begged the moon and all its stars to save little Penny, to keep her here because she was just still so young, you begged the moon to take you instead – to do with you what he would if he would only save her.

That was your last thought before you slipped into a blissful blackness.

And when you woke Jack, you pulled him close and let him cry for your pain.  Then you pulled back, showed him that everything was okay because the moon had answered your prayers – he had taken you, taken you from your pain, and he had saved Penny.

“He saved her?” Jack smiles softly and you nod before you take a pinch of sand and weave it into a little girl and the girl grows and grows and, with a few more grains, you add a husband and children.

And then Jack laughs and wipes at his face and tells you how fantastic that is.

And when Jack leaves, your smile fades and you look at the dancing woman and her husband and her children. 

And you fight your terrible sadness because you didn’t tell Jack about the price for Penny’s life.

You didn’t tell Jack how you visited her, still new and still learning your powers and still invisible, and how she never said your name, never cried over you.

 ** _She doesn’t know you_** , Moon whispers one night, **_I’m sorry, but her grief would have killed her and so she has forgotten you; they have all forgotten you._**

 -z-

 End.

 


End file.
